


the dull flame of desire

by ennta



Category: Nightrunner Series - Lynn Flewelling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 11:02:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19851805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ennta/pseuds/ennta
Summary: Alec learns the merits of coarse language; Seregil learns the merits of trust.Set between Stalking Darkness and Traitor's Moon.





	the dull flame of desire

Snow began to fall from a dingy grey sky as Alec and Seregil arrived at a sprawling, well-maintained inn just inside the walls of a midsize town. The inn was larger than the keeps of some of the lesser lords Alec and Seregil had passed through on their journeys, with its own inner courtyard bustling with other travelers seeking shelter from the oncoming storm.

The stiff winter wind blew Seregil’s hood back and stung his face; he winced and pulled the hood back into place as he and Alec guided their horses to a hitching post next to the wide door. Raucous laughter and music sounded from inside, and Seregil quickly hobbled Cynril as Alec did the same with Patch. 

“If they don’t offer warm baths, we’re riding for the next inn,” Seregil mumbled darkly, rubbing at his arms in an attempt to warm himself. Traveling the Skalan countryside as summer turned to autumn had been a gentle, quiet affair, filled with campfires and nights spent searching out constellations, but as the cold set in, Seregil had quickly tired of their leisurely wanderings.

“I found the tip of a thumb in the stew at the last inn we stayed at,” Alec reminded him, raising an eyebrow as he swung his Black Radly over one shoulder and his traveling pack over the other. “You didn’t insist on finding another inn _then_.”

Seregil sighed heavily. “They offered _baths_ , Alec, and the cook apologized.” He frowned, shouldering his own pack and leading Alec into the inn. “We never did find out whose thumb it was.” 

The main hall was blessedly warm, lit by a roaring fire in a large stone hearth. Two bards, both older men, played beside it, and their skill and fine clothing further drove home the fact that this inn was not a common sort. The innkeep met them just inside the door, her dark eyes taking in their worn travelers’ clothing. When she met Seregil’s eyes, she raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“My dear lady,” Seregil began, “my companion and I have been on the road for far too long, and we wish to rest here. I have not seen a finer establishment--”

“In all the land, yes, yes, I know,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “And it thrives on coin, not compliments.”

Seregil grinned. “As it happens, I have both. We’ll want your grandest room, and a warm supper. Warm baths, as well, if possible.” 

The innkeeper quoted her price and Alec let out a low whistle. It was nothing they couldn’t afford, but more than two dirty travelers should have between them. Nonetheless, Seregil produced several coins from his sleeve with a bit of sleight of hand, but the innkeeper’s unimpressed expression remained the same. She assured them their horses would be taken to the stables, then fetched a maid to show them to their room and disappeared back into the crowd.

***

The room was everything Seregil had hoped for and more. A canopied four-poster bed took up much of one wall, the frame a dark wood carved with a pattern of vines and leaves. Seregil wanted nothing more than to fall back into the sumptuous bedding, but Alec tugged on his arm to stop him.

“You’ll have a fit if you muck up the bed with those clothes,” Alec pointed out, tucking a strand of Seregil’s hair behind his ear. Alec’s fingers were cold despite the gloves he had worn on the road, and the chill of them made Seregil’s breath catch. He reached up to cover Alec’s hand with his own, then brought it to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it.

The way Alec’s eyes slid closed at the touch was enough to suddenly remind Seregil that they hadn’t done much more than hold each other by campfires over the last week and a half; the warm flush that tripped across their talímenios bond told him Alec had just come to the same realization.

A loud knock startled them and dampened the delicious tension mounting in the room. Seregil was disappointed until he opened the door and found several servants hauling buckets of warm water. He chatted amiably with them as they dragged a large metal tub out of a corner and began to fill it; as they left the room, two women hurried in with a basket of soaps and herbs. Seregil thanked them and barred the door once they had retreated into the hallway.

He began stripping out of his clothes, shedding layers onto the floor as fast as he could. Alec knelt by the tub, stirring oils and herbs into the steaming water, his own shirt, tunic, and cloak already laid out beside the fire to dry. He looked up when Seregil approached, a sweet, honest longing in his eyes.

Seregil climbed into the bath with a sigh of relief, then reached out to tug on Alec’s braid. “You know, you could join me if you’d like. I think the tub is big enough.”

Alec’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh.” He glanced from Seregil’s face to his body, rippling and distorted beneath the water, then stood and began to unlace his breeches. “I suppose--well, why not?”

Alec’s body was lean and supple, lithe but muscular, dotted and pitted and sliced with scars but no less beautiful for those hard-won blemishes. He didn’t look at Seregil as he finished undressing, but a slight blush bloomed like a rose over his high cheekbones. It wasn’t exactly from embarrassment, Seregil surmised, but nor was it entirely from arousal; Alec still guarded his modesty from time to time, and Seregil was loathe to begrudge him that.

Seregil wasn’t one to seek out coy innocence in a lover; he had lost his own innocence--an innocence of heart and body, both betrayed--long ago, and the fear of being someone’s first disappointment or regret beneath the sheets had left him wary of inexperienced bed mates. Alec’s trust was a prize he guarded jealously in his heart, one he was conscious of every time Alec stood bare before him.

“How should I sit?” Alec asked, gesturing down at the bath. “Between your legs, or …?”

Seregil considered that a moment. “Facing me, I should think. On my lap, perhaps.” He shot Alec a lewd look, just to watch his blush deepen.

The water rippled and sloshed as Alec climbed into the bath and straddled Seregil, his forearms coming to rest on Seregil’s shoulders. Seregil fought the urge to roll his hips up against Alec’s, instead reaching out to undo the thong tying off Alec’s long braid. He said nothing as he carefully undid the braid, unraveling it until Alec’s hair was soft, honeyed fall over his shoulders. 

Alec’s hands slid into Seregil’s hair, rubbing at the nape of his neck, then up over his scalp. Seregil groaned in appreciation and decided he was rather clever to have combined two of his favorite things--a hot bath and Alec in his lap--so successfully.

“We can hardly bathe properly like this,” Alec finally said, his lips twitching in a smile.

“Or fuck properly,” Seregil mused. “Make love,” he amended, when Alec’s eyes widened. “Although …” He ran his palms down Alec’s sides. “... I’m still not sure why you prefer using euphemisms.”

Alec shifted a bit, his eyelids fluttering as his cock brushed Seregil’s. “It’s crude,” he managed, but there was little conviction behind his words. “We make love. We don’t _fuck._ ”

The obscenity on Alec’s tongue was more delicious than Seregil could have imagined.

“What do you call it, then,” Seregil murmured, idly sliding his thumbs along Alec’s hips, “when I suck your cock?” He met Alec’s eyes and a thrum of arousal echoed down their bond as Alec swallowed thickly. 

“Well, that’s just--I suppose that’s just you pleasuring me.” Alec shot Seregil an appraising look. “Why don’t _you_ use euphemisms?”

“I enjoy vulgarity, in the right circumstances. Perhaps I’m simply a crude man by nature.” Seregil gave an exaggerated shrug and ran a fingertip lightly down Alec’s thigh. “But I’ll be good, talí. We’ll make love.”

Alec was silent for a moment. Then, “What sort of things would I say? If I wanted to be crude?”

He seemed genuinely curious, and Seregil sat forward so they were nearly chest-to-chest. “I can teach you,” he whispered, holding Alec’s gaze. He ghosted a touch over the small of Alec’s back. “You can repeat after me.”

Alec’s breath hitched a little. “Alright, then. What should I say?”

Seregil fought the urge to pin Alec’s hips down and thrust up against him until they clouded the bathwater with their release. Instead he slid his hands down to cup Alec’s ass. “You would say, ‘Seregil, I want to’--” 

“Seregil, I want to--” Alec repeated gamely, and something in his eyes shifted in a way that told Seregil that Alec knew _exactly_ what this game was doing to him.

“--‘to fuck you’,” Seregil continued, a little breathless.

“--to fuck you,” Alec whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to Seregil’s.

Seregil swallowed. Between the heat of the bath and Alec’s warm weight, he couldn’t remember ever being cold. “--‘so hard that you won’t walk right for a week.’”

Alec pulled away at that, and Seregil wondered if he’d gone too far. He was about to apologize when Alec leaned in close, his lips on the shell of Seregil’s ear, and murmured, “--so hard that you won’t walk right for a week.” 

Seregil felt a bit dizzy. “That’s right, talí. That’s _perfect._ ”

Alec sat back and tilted his head. “What else should I say?” he asked, and the innocence behind the question was more than a little feigned. He rolled his hips, blinking deep blue eyes at Seregil, and Seregil had the sense that something was shifting imperceptibly between them.

“You’re clever,” Seregil said. “I’m sure you can come up with something.” He all but held his breath, watching Alec worry his lower lip between his teeth as he searched for words. When Alec met Seregil’s eyes again, they had the same glint in them that Seregil saw whenever Alec drew a bow at a difficult target.

“Seregil,” Alec began, grinding his hips down, “I want to …” He leaned in close again, nuzzling Seregil’s neck. “... to _fuck_ you …” His sweet, sweet lips trailed across Seregil’s skin. “... until I spill inside you …” And that would have been enough, _more_ than enough to spur endless satisfying fantasies of crude words falling from Alec’s gentle tongue for the rest of Seregil’s long, long life; but Alec continued, adding, in accented Aurenfaie, “... and lick up my seed where it runs down your thighs.”

Seregil tugged Alec back by the hair so he could see his face, and the satisfied gleam in Alec’s eyes paired with the hot blush suffusing his face sent a wave of love and desire crashing through him. He kissed Alec roughly, winding one arm around Alec’s waist to hold him tight, then began to thrust up against him in earnest, only partially aware of the desperate noises he was making into Alec’s mouth.

Alec kissed him back with graceless, bruising abandon, riding the push and pull of Seregil’s body, giving and taking as the water splashed around them. Alec’s tongue curled around Seregil’s, just as it had curled around those profanities to taste and weigh them, just as it had curled around Seregil’s cock so many times. 

Seregil’s heart beat wildly in his chest as his hands grasped at Alec’s skin; he wished he could touch Alec everywhere, all at once; he wished he could scratch and lick and kiss and worship, all in a single moment. Nothing else could encompass the enormity of what he felt, and through their bond, Alec’s own overwhelming pleasure cascaded into him.

“ _Fuck_!” Alec shouted, shuddering helplessly against Seregil. “Maker’s Mercy- _fuckfuckfuck_ \--”

Seregil cried out Alec’s name at that, drawn to his climax by the sound of both the holy and profane together on Alec’s lips. Seregil clung to him as their bodies floundered and settled and stilled, the water ebbing and flowing around them. 

“Good?” Alec panted, collapsing against Seregil’s chest.

Seregil’s head was as muddled as it had ever been. “Good,” he whispered. “So good, talí. So very, very good.” 

***

Seregil had taken more lovers than he could count, but every encounter after the first two had been at least slightly guarded; generally pleasurable, yes, but it was a pleasure Seregil was always _aware_ of, always checking in on lest it lead him to yet more ruin. He frequently lost his body to it, but never, _never_ , his mind. But he had come close to it, in the bath. Very close indeed.

“Seregil?” Alec lay beside him under the thick blue coverlet, and Seregil opened his eyes to see Alec looking over at him with a furrowed brow.

“Mmm?” Seregil murmured, reaching out for Alec’s hand and lacing their fingers together. He heard Alec take a deep breath.

“I’m not your apprentice anymore, you know,” Alec said softly, and Seregil frowned.

“Of course not,” Seregil said, wondering what point Alec was working towards.

Alec released Seregil’s hand and propped himself up on one elbow. “So you don’t have to try and teach me things all the time.” 

Seregil sighed. He should have known he was pushing Alec too far in the bath; had he let his lust get in the way of the faith Alec had placed in him? 

“I’m sorry about that,” Seregil said sincerely. “If I made you uncomfortable, earlier. You know you can tell me whenever you’re uncomfortable, and we’ll stop whatever we’re doing--”

Alec rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I’m talking about. What I mean is--” He bit his lower lip. “I know you’ve had more skilled lovers, and I know you’re much more experienced than I am. But you’ve taught me enough that I know how--I know how to have my way with you.”

Seregil sat up and raised an eyebrow at Alec, but the words sparked a thrill of heat up his spine. “Oh you do?”

Alec nodded. “I know what I like, and I know what you like, so you don’t need to keep guiding me here and there like I still don’t know what I’m doing.” 

Seregil didn’t quite know how to feel about that; instructing Alec kept his mind busy while his body ached with pleasure. It wasn’t a barrier he had meant to keep intact around Alec, certainly, but it was there all the same, and Seregil felt the first flickering glimmer of curiosity as he wondered what it would be like if that barrier came down.

“And how would you like to have your way with me?” The hoarseness of his own voice surprised him.

By way of an answer, Alec slid from the bed and moved to rummage through Seregil’s pack near the fire. His hair was gold as fields of grain, then amber as an autumn leaf as it caught the dancing, weaving firelight. When he turned around, he held the small vial of oil they carried with them, and Seregil licked his lips and kicked the covers off. 

He wanted to make some clever remark, some witty quip or lecherous joke, but the look in Alec’s eyes and the slight upward tilt of his chin stopped him. Silhouetted by the glow of the fire, Alec pushed Seregil onto his back and spread his legs apart to sit on his knees between them. He placed the vial of oil on the bed beside Seregil, then ran his hands up Seregil’s thighs.

“I love you,” Alec said softly, and kissed him.

Seregil let Alec lead him; even Alec’s stumbling, innocent kisses had been magical, but now he could draw the breath from Seregil’s mouth and replace it with his own, could taste and tease as surely as he could feint and parry in the training yard. He took Seregil’s lower lip gently between his teeth and tugged just enough to sting, then slid the very tip of his tongue across it to drive the sting away.

“I know you like that,” Alec whispered, and Seregil could only close his eyes and nod. 

A hand closed around Seregil’s cock, sliding his foreskin down and stroking the ridge beneath the head. Seregil let out a shaky breath and moaned, the barrier in his mind slipping as Alec continued to assert control. Alec stroked him with a sure, callused touch, coaxing Seregil slowly to hardness.

“And I know you like that,” Alec said proudly. Then, drawing himself up a bit, “Tell me you like that.”

His rather imperious tone sent another jolt of need through Seregil’s body. “I like that,” Seregil said dutifully. He wanted nothing more than to hand Alec the vial of oil and tell him how much he’d like _that_ , but he suspected he should let Alec get to that himself.

“You’re better, you know,” Seregil said suddenly, because there was a hand on his cock and his brain was forgetting which words to say and which words to keep behind clenched teeth. “Better than anyone I’ve been with, better than all of them.”

“You’re only saying that,” Alec mumbled, but he smiled and blushed all the same and reached for the vial of oil. “And you shouldn’t mention them when we’re--when I’m about to _fuck you_.” His smile grew when Seregil shivered. “And you like _that_ , too.”

“Both the nomenclature and the actual fucking,” Seregil confirmed, taking a deep breath as he watched Alec unstopper the vial. He spread his legs further and raised his knees. “Make sure the oil doesn’t drip onto the sheets--”

Alec gave Seregil a look that Seregil couldn’t quite decipher, than tilted the vial and let drops of clear oil fall down onto the bed. The beads of oil looked like sparks when the firelight caught them on their descent. “I wasn’t going to,” Alec finally said, “so you didn’t need to remind me.”

It was a fair point, Seregil decided, in light of what they had discussed, and so he willed himself to stay quiet as Alec coated his fingers. He used just the right amount; not too much and not too little, just the amount Seregil had once measured out for him. 

Seregil murmured his thanks when Alec finally slid a finger inside him; he let out a long, low moan when Alec’s searching finger found its mark. Alec leaned close, his mouth inches from Seregil’s, and curled his finger. 

Pleasure like the rumble of faraway thunder spread through Seregil’s body; it was not sharp and hot, not yet, but the promise was there, building in Seregil’s limbs. 

“Do you like this better?” Alec whispered, his eyes bright. “Or this?” 

The pattern of his touch changed; now he pressed and circled, his finger a sharp pressure one moment and a subtle echo the next. Seregil saw the concentration on Alec’s face, belied by his sure and steady hands.

“I like that best,” Seregil said. “You’re so good with your hands, talí. So--” He gasped as Alec gently worked a second finger into him; he relaxed into the stretch of it. “--very, _very_ good.” He wished Alec would touch his cock, but Alec’s free hand remained maddeningly still on the underside of Seregil’s raised thigh.

“Could I bring you off?” Alec asked curiously. “Just like this, without touching your cock?”

Seregil’s head fell back on the pillow and a low growl rumbled from the back of his throat. He hadn’t done that sort of thing in awhile, but he remembered well the intensity of it. 

“You could,” Seregil admitted breathlessly, his muscles tensing and relaxing around Alec’s fingers. “It takes a bit longer, but--”

“We have all night,” Alec pointed out in that matter-of-fact way of his. Seregil groaned at the lack of artifice or teasing in Alec’s tone; Alec was forever saying the most alluring things without even realizing the implications of his words.

The world grew hazy and quiet around Seregil; his eyes closed, and he relaxed further to the sound of Alec’s careful, even breathing. Seregil suspected Alec saw this challenge as another lock to be picked, another series of tumblers to raise in order to swing wide the door of some forbidden chamber. And Alec’s hand was just as well suited to this. Normally he would simply be preparing Seregil to take his cock, but now he took a slower, steadier route, easing forward and back, rubbing and circling and crooking his fingers deftly.

Seregil’s mind receded, overwhelmed by the tingly prickles of sensation raising the hairs on his arms and legs. His barriers crumbled behind his eyes as he broke out in a sweat; there was no time to contemplate their loss, or mourn their swift and sudden destruction, because in that moment they had never existed at all: _nothing_ had existed before Alec. 

Seregil started when Alec leaned over him and fit their mouths together in a kiss as measured and rhythmic as the motion of his fingers. Seregil relinquished himself fully to the thick, wet, plunging slide of Alec’s tongue and fingers, lulled by the steadiness of the pace Alec set even as tension began to curl and spread in his core.

“I love you, talí,” Alec whispered against Seregil’s lips, and Seregil grabbed for Alec’s hair, winding strands around a tightly clenched fist in an attempt to anchor himself. He still couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes; Alec’s touch, Alec’s smell, the taste of Alec’s mouth surrounded him, and he was afraid what the sight of Alec might do to him.

“Love you--love you, too,” Seregil moaned huskily, tugging on Alec’s hair. He loved Alec’s hair.

It seemed the whole night passed like that: Alec’s fingers never seemed to tire, and the building tension in Seregil’s stomach spread through his body to mingle with the sharp heat in his groin and the fullness inside of him and the skittering lightning striking sparks up and down his arms and legs. When the sensations joined, Seregil writhed helplessly, arching his hips and curling his toes in the sheets.

Alec’s touch grew more insistent; all this time he had been striking a flint to build a fire, and now Seregil could feel that fire coursing through his veins, beginning the final rush to set him alight.

When that flame in blood and body grew to the wildfire that finally consumed him, Seregil was dry brush on an arid plain, kindling on a campfire, a dry and thirsting thing until the roar of heat and light filled him, consumed him, reduced him to smoldering embers. He shook from the ferocity of it as feral, primal cries escaped his lips; he knew only one word-- _Alec_! _Alec_!--but it was the most important word in the world.

Seregil’s shudders had almost subsided when he dared open his eyes; he found Alec watching him with a pleased if puzzled expression. And then Alec moved his fingers again, experimentally, and Seregil’s threw his head back, mouth slack, as pleasure took him again, locking his limbs and throbbing sweetly in his neck and temples. Seregil was sure he had lived one hundred more of his many years before it finally began to fade, and then he was aware of his gasping, ragged breathing and the emptiness when Alec finally slid his fingers away.

“Did I do something wrong?” Alec finally asked, as Seregil stared uncomprehendingly at the canopy above. 

“Do something--” Seregil’s head lolled on the pillow and he frowned. “Do something _wrong_?” he asked, his voice rough and incredulous.

Alec blushed. “You’re still _hard_ ,” he clarified. “It can’t have been that good if you’re still hard.”

Seregil surprised himself by letting out a delighted snort of laughter that he thought would have been beyond him in his present state. “That’s why what you did to me is so …” For once in his life, he couldn’t find the right words. “... so wonderful,” he finished, although even _wonderful_ couldn’t begin to describe what he had just experienced. “You can bring a man off multiple times that way,” he started to explain, but that was a bit of the old barrier trying to reassert itself, and he pushed it away in favor of savoring the exhausted trembling of his body.

“Would you like to fuck me now?” Seregil asked sleepily, nodding at Alec’s own hard cock.

“It wouldn’t be too much for you?” Alec asked dubiously.

“Mmmm.” Seregil closed his eyes again and stretched luxuriously, spreading his legs further and beckoning Alec close. He almost told Alec to use more oil, but shut his mouth before he could; Alec was already opening the vial and smoothing the oil over his cock.

“If it’s too much--”” Alec said uncertainly.

Seregil wondered absently when he had let go of Alec’s hair. “So long as I don’t have to walk or ride a horse tomorrow, I think I’ll be fine.”

Alec didn’t need any more encouragement. He pressed into Seregil and groaned happily, his eyes closing briefly before opening again and fixing on Seregil’s face. “I want to fuck you,” Alec said sweetly, his mouth curving into an innocent little smile. 

“Then do,” Seregil said, his half-lidded eyes raking appreciatively over Alec. “By all means, do.”

Seregil was too dazed from his euphoria to do much more than lie contentedly beneath Alec, letting Alec move into him with hard, impatient snaps of his thin hips. When Alec kissed him, Seregil buried his hands once more in Alec’s hair, stroking it, tugging it, tangling it in his fingers.

Alec came with a wordless cry of relief, then rested his head on Seregil’s chest for a long moment before sliding out of him. Before Seregil could get an arm around him to tug him close, Alec had slid down between his legs, and his tongue was warm on Seregil’s inner thighs as he licked them clean of his own seed. 

Seregil nearly choked on his tongue. 

Alec climbed up the bed and settled himself beneath Seregil’s arm, taking Seregil’s cock in his hand and stroking him gently. He pressed kisses to Seregil’s jaw and neck as he did so, and when Seregil came again he felt as though he had surely ascended to some sort of heaven.

“See?” Alec finally said, nuzzling Seregil’s shoulder. “I know what I’m doing.” 

Seregil nodded and hummed his assent. He was tired and warm and more than a little dizzy; he reached for one of the gauzy curtains hanging from the canopy and sluggishly used it to clean himself up. Alec did the same, flushing at the stains left on the delicate fabric, then climbed back into bed and pulled the blankets up around them.

“You were louder than usual,” Alec murmured, a yawn breaking his voice. “We’ll have to find another inn.”

“I told you I wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow,” Seregil murmured happily, his eyes already falling closed. He didn’t think he had ever felt so vulnerable, or so comfortable and certain in that vulnerability. 

Alec kissed him on the cheek as chastely as a maiden. “That was the idea, remember?”

  
***

**Author's Note:**

> [title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktoBm0t8KV8)   
>  [my tumblr](https://knight-of-the-flowers.tumblr.com)


End file.
